


Smudged Over

by orphan_account



Category: The Faculty (1998)
Genre: 100-1000 Words, F/F, Ficlet, Future Fic, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-03-28
Updated: 2008-03-28
Packaged: 2017-10-08 01:38:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/71370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Depressing, yet smutty.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Smudged Over

Stan should've been the high school sweetheart she married, the one she'd spend the rest of her life trying to not quite fit in with. They'd have had comics and sci-fi and a minute knowledge of Star Wars races to impart on their misfit children, who'd grow up going to DragonCon every year and probably rebel as teenagers by becoming queen bees or jocks.

But she guessed maybe she was too bisexual for him (she always did say she wasn't a lesbian) and there was just one flirtation too many (but he had seen what the girls wore at the cons, she knew damn well he'd noticed, so how could he expect her not to) and it was over before they even got to the part where they should've got married.

For two years in county college Stokely went back to wearing black, and upped it with black lipstick and inventive mascara. She may have written poetry. She may have dated a couple of emo prettyboys, fucked a few pretencious goth queens, even been sweet on one or two really good people, but her heart felt as hollow as her poems claimed it was.

She was wearing smudged makeup and black the night she recognized Delilah outside the Honeycup (she was lonely, what the hell) and broke out laughing, because Delilah was wearing a pirate shirt and low-riding jeans and her hair in a short spiky do that would have made her Stokely's friend in misery in high school. Before Stokely knew what she was doing she was pushing her way through the crowds to Delilah and even hugged the bitch like an old friend. (Delilah had never got any nicer, but then, neither had Stokely). They went in together, exchanging tales of lesbian discoveries. Delilah was apparently full-on, now, which Stokely found hilarious.

They drank and danced and damn, Delilah could move. She swung her hips in the air, spooning an invisible partner until Stokely took the invitation, moved her body against Delilah's, grinding and stroking and all but fucking her right there on the dance floor, surrounded by a hundred other women and the air smelling of smoke and sweat.

Stokely had not yet sunk low enough to do the bathroom thing, so they stumbled into her dorm room (she was staying over for the summer, no fucking way was she going back to her parents, this was why she put in all those long hours waiting tables), already pulling off each others' clothing. Delilah's hair still smelled of apples and she wore a bright red bra with a Snoopy cartoon on it, and Stokely laughed and called her a fashionista and got her neck bitten for it. They got through the black and the more black and the low-riding jeans and fuck, beautiful, inside her lace panties (she wore see-through ones, of course she did) and the hair underneath was short and dark and Stokely pushed her down on her bed and pushed her nose into Delilah's pussy. The hair down there smelled of soap and sex.

She licked and sucked and teased, and Delilah made frantic little noises behind her lips, ngh, mm, never a vowel, but she moved like a rolling wave, her hands tearing at Stokely's hair. She pulled Stokely up for a hard bloody kiss, and rolled her over, found the pink under her black with her fingers, one in each of her mouths, and Stokely hissed, the touch almost too much to bear, god, she was so gorgeous in the panting darkness. She reached down and found Delilah's clit, and Delilah found her vowels.

Later they spoke of aliens and smack, and fell asleep on two different sides of a very small bed, curled as far from each other as possible. In the dark, Stokely lay awake remembering how she used to watch Delilah with Stan's arm around her shoulder, remembered the loathing and how it ended. She may, just may, have begun to feel a little again; even if what she felt wasn't exactly nice.

Delilah was gone in the morning.


End file.
